


A would-be suicide

by Blue24t2



Category: Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: #love #nightasalways #suicide #macdeau #window, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:04:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue24t2/pseuds/Blue24t2
Summary: An unusual work written at late night.Manu calls Justin, but their innocent call turns into something really dangerous. Enjoy!
Relationships: Emmanuel Macron/Justin Trudeau
Kudos: 14





	A would-be suicide

It was a rainy night and Manu was still working; Paris was still awake as it always is. He was considering cleaning up his organized mess and go to sleep but couldn’t pull himself away from his work. Then suddenly the phone rang. He forgot about the mess and looked at the phone screen. His sleepy eyes couldn't see who was calling so he stood up and went to his phone. When he picked it up he was surprised to find that it was cold and only then did he realize how chilly his office had gotten throughout the evening. He wondered who could be calling this late unless it had something to do with the time difference. Turns out it was just his mobile phone company alerting him that he was running out of data . Realising he was desperate for company he took out his private phone to call the one person he actually cared about. He unlocked his phone and searched for that one person in the whole world who could say maple syrup is better than baguette and he wouldn't be angry. As always his heart skipped the beat when he already found him. His thumb hovered above the number and it felt like his heart had jumped up his throat. He wondered if he was just being selfish. Yet he still pressed down and held his breath, hoping on some level that he’d go straight to voicemail. But he didn't. Manu knew he shouldn’t be doing this . He shouldn’t be so selfish . Yet he couldn’t help it . They were like magnets, constantly attracted to each other and Manu just couldn’t get him out his baguette filled head . His heart almost skipped a beat as a musical sounding voice whispered out ‘hello’ over the phone.  
"Emmm... Ummmmm... Hello? Aren't you busy?"  
he asked, but the warm voice laughed and said  
"I answered, so I guess I'm not. How's your day going, my love?"  
“It’s getting colder this time of year... so... I guess I’m cold?”  
That sounded so dumb Emmanuel thought, fighting an urge to slam his face into the doorframe.  
“How can I help?”  
Justin answered, and Emmanuel could’ve sworn he could hear Justin smiling on the other end.  
"Ummmmm you can..."  
Emmanuel felt he was going dumber and dumber. How could Justin help? He was on the other side of the ocean!  
"I'm still listening, you can ask for anything"  
Justin said and at least Manu's heart felt warmer.  
“Do something obscene. Get my heart rate up.”  
It took some time for Emmanuel to realize what he was saying. But if anything he was at least feeling out of breath already.  
"Obscene? I wasn't expecting that, but ok."  
Justin seemed at least a little bit shocked.  
"Please..."  
Emmanuel couldn't breath, the tension was so strong for him even if he was the person who started.  
“I can’t deny I love hearing you beg, but you’re gonna have to be more specific.”  
Justin answered, teasingly. Emmanuel felt his cheeks flare just a little, but pulled himself together in order to gain back some dominance. Like hell was he gonna let crybaby Trudeau take the reins.  
"Justin, could you just one fucking time not beg me to beg you? It's fucking annoying."  
Emmanuel tried his best.  
"Oh no, I'm not begging you to beg me. You beg first and then you beg me again but this time not to beg for begging me"  
Justin was half laughing, half serious.  
"Anyway, what do you want me to do? Something more sexual or just stupid or,-"?  
“Well we’re not gonna solve anything by arguing about who’s begging who.”  
Emmanuel was at his limit when it came to patience toward the pretty Disney prince asshole on the other end.  
“Oh so there’s a problem in need of solving?”  
Justin asked with a lick of sarcasm.  
“Shut up I’m trying to think.” Emmanuel hissed. “Sure I’ll just hang up then.”  
Justin said.  
"Oh you... bastard! You're not hanging up! I didn't call you just for you hanging up now, oh no. Stay here." Emmanuel tried to think again. He was thinking hard so he was almost sure what he want and then,-  
"Can I talk now? You're thinking for a few minutes. What happened to your brain? I thought you were genius."  
“I never referred to myself as a genius. Do you even know me?”  
Emmanuel said, half jokingly.  
“Every inch.”  
Justin answered like the smug asshole he was.  
“You drive me insane.”  
Emmanuel said, laying a cold hand on his burning cheek.  
“I do my best.” Justin answered. “It seems to be working. Now get to the point.”  
Emmanuel stood up and looked around for an opened window.  
"I just called cause I feel alone. Where the fuck it is... No, it's not to you."  
"I see"  
"I don't know if I'm into sex calls or whatever today. Unless I find this fucking window and it will be warm again. I mean, ugh, just say you're here and you love me".  
“You seem upset...” Justin sighed.  
“I didn’t ask you to tell me how I feel.”  
Emmanuel snapped. Only then did he realize how lonely it was to have no one on your side. No one who understands you.  
“Whatever I’m hanging up, thanks or something.” He didn’t wait for Justin to protest his sudden shift in mood, before he hung up. Somehow he felt even lonelier than before he’d reached out.He just sat down in his bureau forgetting about the window and thought about his life. Wasn't he alone? No, he had Brigitte. But did she understand him every time? No, cause he haven't told her about everything. There was always Justin, but sometimes it was like that. His mood went uncontrollably in every side and no one could do anything with that. As one writer wrote "Why are you, bad hour, mingling with useless fright? You are- so you must pass. You pass- so it's beautiful". Oh, he was such a nerd. Suddenly the window crept into his mind, so delicately that idea hovered until vehemently it danced and lured him toward that coldness. And he stood there in front of the window, with so far down and no way back. In that moment he didn’t think about the losses or public opinion. He just considered that sweet simplicity of not having to adjust himself to fit a certain frame. And now he could not turn back. Because that window seemed to be the only solution. That free fall had whispers and promises of carrying that heavy weight he was trembling under. The wind was saying "come, come to me" and the dark, night sky was whispering "it's like flying, you'll be as light as a feather, your problems will end and the fly will be a pleasure". He stood up and looked up at the window. There was something scary, almost creepy in this unnatural dark sky and the silent, that broke the noise of the city. Was he still necessary? He made two steps and caught the window frame with his hands. Gentle gust of the wind sang to his ear "come, come to me, come to embrace of the death". The song was sweet enough to made Emmanuel make a decision. He let go, supporting himself only with his quivering legs although he had never been more sure. He was saying his goodbyes to the world, praying that it would change, but knowing that it wouldn’t. He sunk further into that calm state of mind. Of complete weightlessness. When suddenly the phone rang. He knew who it was and he jump down from the frame as if the things he had just convinced himself were never true. He picked up the phone and was immediately greeted by that familiar sweet tone. “I love you.” Justin said. And Emmanuel knew he would never leave Justin behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Written by @macdeau.edits @political_ships and @emmanuelmacronfan. Follow us on Instagram!
> 
> Btw for interested: the fragment of the poem is from Wisława Szymborska's poem "Nothing two times"


End file.
